Benevolent
by mynamemattersnot
Summary: A Romulan boy, who calls himself Malon, struggles through abuse, rejection, and grief eventually becomes a Starfleet officer. (Story is better than summary.)
1. Of Family and Loss

**Benevolent**

**Author's Note: This is a story I'm really only going to write when I'm not feeling all happy and good. Otherwise, I would just depress myself. This is the full background story (with some cut outs so it doesn't go beyond M rating) of Malon also known as Sky written in first person. For reference, the Romulans are speaking Romulan and since I can't speak or write Romulan you'll just have to use your imaginations. I claim no ownership or Star Trek or the Romulan species or the characters of Star Trek who may find ways into the plot somehow. I ask ChystalK114 not to spoil my story please by hinting the future. :/ (I don't think you'll do that ChK but just making sure.)**

I studied my mother helping her patients with an unwavering interest. She was a doctor and sometimes I wanted nothing more than to be like her and help people like she did. The automatic doors slid open and I saw my father walk in carrying an injured Starfleet officer. He had this angry look on his face with a hint of something else that I had never seen before. I immediately studied his stoic face, which carefully and almost completely concealed anything other than the anger, and wondered if something was bothering him. Perhaps, it was the Starfleet officer. According to my father and my mother, people of Starfleet sometimes weren't always the best or most honest people. Maybe having the officer here, even if injured and helpless, was what was making him upset. I wanted to know badly, but I also didn't wish to upset or distract my parents with questions.

Instead, I watched my father set the man indifferently on the bed. My mother was gentler with him and treated him quickly. The way she would touch him was almost like he was an old doll of hers beginning to fall apart and in extreme danger of breaking. I observed this quickly trying to learn everything about this human that I possibly could. He had red blood which, at first, freaked me out a little bit. I mean what kind of creature was he if he had red blood? I briefly wondered to myself if he was some sort of monster and quickly shook those thoughts out of my head. I was four and four year olds were too old to still be afraid and superstitious of monsters.

I continued to study the man carefully and noticed the insignia on his shirt. I looked at him surprised realizing he wasn't just any Starfleet officer, he was actually a captain! I looked at my father seeking some reassurance. My father was a commander and he was always brave, thoughtful, and kind especially when it came to mother and me. He gave me a reassuring nod and I felt all my fears fade away. He picked me up and embraced me hard, which would sometimes hurt a little whenever he did, but made me feel so safe and secure that I wouldn't ever complain. He was always so incredible and strong that sometimes I wanted to be like him even more than I wanted to be like mother.

He set me down gently and said, "Now behave yourself Sky and remember to be brave." He then turned to my mother and said, "Tell me everything the enemy says my love. Against the Federation we can never be too safe."

"Of course I will," She said seriously before she switched to a teasing tone, "Commander Kolskiar."

He smiled before leaving the room. He eventually came back into the room with that strange look on his face again and this time I found myself staring because it encompassed his entire face and I actually found it- terrifying. My mother was no longer as focused on the captain, but my father stared at him with that look. He approached him and spoke in words I barely understood and I realized he was speaking to the human using the human language which I hadn't been formally taught yet. The human answered back, but my father didn't seem all too satisfied with his reply and questioned him harder. The human continued to upset him more and more till he struck the human which startled both my mother and myself. Yet, once my father started, he would not stop and he continued to brutally injure the human who could barely defend himself. I wondered if this was some sort of nightmare or if the human had done something seriously wrong or if my father was just that extremely upset. Whatever it was, I was horrified.

My mother though quickly broke out of her shock and stopped him before he could do anymore damage. He only frowned at her and looked furious but hopefully he left the room instead of giving in to the rage. The human captain had been seriously injured by that time and was bruised up and bloody. He looked like a pile of mess haphazardly thrown onto a bed. He groaned in pain and I looked at my mother in absolute horror. The terror must have shown on my face because she wrapped me in her arms into a gentle, comforting hug. She then held me close to her and at the same time helped the Starfleet captain. After, a while when she was finished she whispered soothing words to me to coax me into relaxing.

"It's alright Sky. Everything will be okay. It will be okay. Your father just was upset because he thought the human had important information that can be used against the Federation and the Praetor is always pressing him to do better." My mother explained to me softly.

"Why does the Praetor pressure father? He is already a hero." I replied to her.

My mother laughed a little at the statement and said with a hint of sadness in her voice, "Yeh, I suppose to some people think he is… but my Sky sometimes being a hero is about sacrificing too. You have to be willing to do anything you can for another person and your father he's still learning. We all are."

"I understand, mother." I stated after considering her words carefully.

"Good, now go explore and be back home before Hobos sets."

"Yes, mother," I said obediently before running outside onto the rich and beautiful land. I would memorize every inch of land daily by looking at it, touching it, smelling it, laying on it, playing on it, running on it, and even trying to listen to it. The more I saw in it, the more I loved it and once I felt like I was familiar with a patch of Romulus, I would move onto the next one. I explored a pretty good distance and reached what seemed to be a pretty dark forest. Perhaps, it was only the lighting. I watched the trees and the ground of the forest thoroughly as Hobos reached a better position and lit up the trees and the ground almost like magic. For a while, I was mystified and awed by it. A smile of excitement formed on my face and I thanked the Elements for making everything so beautiful. When Hobos began to approach the setting stage, I headed back home.

The next few days didn't turn out to go much better as my father would still torture the Starfleet captain continuously trying to get information out of him. As the captain's condition continued to decline, my mother seemed to grow worried and afraid which scared me beyond belief. I feared for her. I feared the captain's death whether for bad or good. Sometimes, I even feared for myself. I was afraid. I was very afraid. I couldn't stop from being afraid. I tried to reassure myself and she tried to reassure me, but I was still afraid. One day, when I came to watch my mother again, she came to me.

"I need you to help my help him, Sky. He can't survive much longer like this. We need to get him off Romulus so he can go back to his own home. Will you help me?" She pleaded.

When I saw the hurt look in her eyes, I couldn't help but immediately answer, "Yes, of course, mother. I will help you make a sacrifice of safety in exchange for his life."

She smiled, "Good, Sky. Good boy. Tonight we will help him escape. Be here at two hours past moonlight. We will use the forest as a cover. Have you seen the forest, yet?"

I nodded, "The one that looks dark until Hobos is three past the highest point."

"Yes, my son." My mother stated and smiled, "Hopefully, we can use your observance."

I awaited my mission eagerly, while I studied the land with more intensity. After a while, I noticed my father walking up from a distance and I waited for him.

"Sky, I need you to do something for me." He stated.

"What is it, father?" I asked.

"I need you to help me get the Starfleet captain in prison. I need you to coax your mother out of the room."

I kept my face as emotionless as possible and by habit said, "Yes, father. I will help you."

Of course as soon as I said those words and my father walked off, I found myself in a terrible dilemma. No matter what I choose to do I would be betraying father or mother and I didn't want to do neither. I trusted father's judgment more than anything, but I couldn't help but think perhaps the captain wouldn't have the information father wanted and then he would be killed if not by father then by his associates. I didn't seem right to allow that to happen even if it helped stop bad people. With those thoughts and my mother's words, the choice was still hard, but easier. I had to do the right thing and helping my mother seemed more right than helping my father. So, I reported to her slightly prior to the time discussed, and the three of us began walking out toward the forest. She asked me to watch out and I did and I saw nothing. We came to the forest which was once again dark and we traveled a good distance without any evidence of anything or anyone following our tracks.

"Sky, have you seen anything at all?" My mother asked.

"No," I answered still studying the forest with extreme intensity.

"Okay, we're still clear." My mother said in the human language so that the captain could understand.

"Are you sure about that?" A romulan male asked appearing from behind a tree ahead.

I was afraid for a moment until I was sure it was only father, but then some strangers came out of the darkness from all around and I begin to wonder how I had never saw them coming. My mother looked fearful and I felt absolute panic, but I didn't know what to do though. I just felt the fear. My heart pounded in my chest, I felt sick to my stomach, and my muscles were practically paralyzed. I felt frozen and useless. I could do nothing.

"I'm so sorry, Sky and captain." My mother said only reassuring all the fear I felt right then.

"You are a traitor, my love and you will be punished for it as soon as the enemy has fallen!" My father said before taking out his weapon and firing at the captain instantly disintegrating him. The fear intensified tenfold. I had to help mother. I had to protect mother. Nothing else mattered anymore. She had to be safe. I rushed to my mother only to be stopped by harsh hands that held me back as I struggled desperately and endlessly.

"Kill her," My father ordered and I watched as the strangers held her so she wouldn't escape. I used every ounce of strength in an attempt to break free as I watched one of them take out a blade. He stabbed her right in front of me. He stabbed her again and again and again. He stabbed her and stabbed her. Every one of the blows he dealt felt like a blow to me. It was almost like I was being the one stabbed.

I couldn't even completely process what I had just saw happen, but I did feel my face get wet and could hear myself cry out, "No! Mother! Mother!"

I couldn't stop myself then. I couldn't stop. There was just so much pain inside. It hurt so badly. The grief that I felt just hurt. It physically hurt. It _hurt_. I finally jerked hard enough to break free from the hands around me and rushed to my mother, but she was already dead with her blood all around her. Her blood was everywhere. My tears continued to fall freely as I realized she was gone. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone forever and there was nothing I could do. There was nothing that could bring her back. She was gone and it hurt. It hurt. It hurt. I screamed more and the agony and aguish filled me. I hugged her limb body and held on tightly never wanting to let go of her, but I soon felt hands pulling me away. I wanted nothing more than to get back to her and hold onto her. I struggled hard, but the hands were even tighter around me and I felt almost crushed.

"Should I kill the boy too?" I heard the terrible murder ask and I actually hoped I would be able to join my mother.

"No, he will receive mercy." My father replied with a hint of something strange in his tone. I realized quickly it was only darkness. I looked at him and for the first time in my life, I hated him. I hated him. He might not have stabbed my mother, but he killed her and I hated him for it. I allowed my pain and hate and everything to show. I resumed screaming and struggling and ignoring any orders for silence.

**Author's Note: A long and agonizing chapter (for some of you) I know, but to separate this in half would be a crime against nature and the Elements so I hope you readers enjoy a long sad story because all the chapters might look something like this if not larger. Do review.**


	2. Of Grief and Punishment

**Author's Note: Another chapter to this story. I warn you that it isn't fluffy or pretty and might not be for a long time. I claim no ownership over Star Trek but Kolskiar and Sky (Malon) are mine. Enjoy the story!**

My screams continued to echo through the dark forest as the irritated strangers handed me off to my father or now to me just nothing but a cold blooded killer, whom I hated. His rough and hard hands carried me back home as I squirmed like mad the whole way there attempting to break free from him so I wouldn't have to deal with the evil demon ever again. I struggled so I could be away from him. He was the demon! He was the killer! He was the one I hated!

As soon as he opened the door to the house, he immediately tossed me hard to the tiled floors of the ground below. As I hit the ground, I felt a jolt of small pain, which I blocked out so that he wouldn't see it. I turned myself toward him and in a fit of an absolute, extreme, uncontrollable, and burning rage that came through me like a fire of one thousand of the hottest suns. Then, I went towards the cruel, murderous, careless, bastard with all the speed that I could muster aiming the rip his throat out for what he did. I unleashed my cry of rage as I came after him. Yet, before I could carry my out my want for vengeance and sudden thirst for blood, he struck me hard across the face instantly sending me back to the ground.

My initial reaction was only shock because the man I once felt protected by hit me purposely and harshly. Then, other emotions streamed wildly through me and I once again found myself in a fit of unstoppable screams and tears. I tried in my cries to release all the grief and rage instead but it felt trapped within me weighing down on me like a crushing wave of sorrow and hate. It was a horrific feeling that made me only scream and cry all the harder wanting desperately for it all too just go away, but it wouldn't. It wouldn't. It wouldn't go away and I felt like I was suffocating in all the emotion that I felt.

The continued wailing only seemed to piss my father off more than I could ever imagine even in my darkest of nightmares. He made a twisted face before balling both of his hands into fists and hitting me over and over and over again harshly and relentlessly. The blows only added to all the agony and I tried and tried and to struggle desperately away from him only for his hands to push me back down to the floor again before coming down even harder than they hand before. Each and every blow he dealt was like a fire burning through my body. I struggled and struggled harder and harder and more and more only for his hands to pin me to the floor. I tried to move against it, but it was like moving against a hard, cold, stone wall. There was no way to escape no matter how much I wanted it or how much I tried so I cried hopelessly.

"Shut up!" My father yelled, but I could not. I was hurt both emotionally and now physically and- and it was just the beyond the measures of hurt. My entire body hurt. My entire body ached. My entire body burned from the blows that were delivered by his hand. My entire body felt like hell so I screamed mostly now in the agony that I felt. I screamed and screamed out the agonizing screams until my throat was left utterly raw and my lungs begged for air. I screamed, I screamed, and I screamed in my pain.

My father's twisted face only grew colder, darker, and angrier so much so that it sent a chilling fear that crawled quickly through my spine. I was so afraid of what he would do next that I bit my lip hard to suppress the next scream to avoid angering him more. Even though I bit as hard as I could, a muffled sound managed to escape me. That single quieted sound seemed to send him over the edge into his own fit of rage that terrified me out of my own rationality and I began crying again.

"SHUT UP! STOP CRYING LIKE A LITTLE BABY YOU STUPID BRAT! STOP CRYING LIKE A PATHETIC BASTARD!" My father shouted at the top of lungs with both fury and disgust as he let go of me with his hands only to drive his foot, shoed with a thick boot, straight into my chest in an unforgiving stomp that stole my next few breathes.

Pain drove through me like a stampede and I gasped desperately for air. I gasped hard until I could finally catch my breath and tried to move my body only to receive a searing pain which prevented me from moving a single muscle. I was now practically paralyzed due to the pain and defenseless against any actions that he may perform. He took absolute advantage of the situation and picked up my unmoving body and slammed it with all his might against the wall. With each slam, everything around me grew a bit hazy and greyish as the pain completely engulfed me. It was crushing, suffocating, and constant all at the same time. This- this was beyond the harshest, fiercest hell. It was beyond torture and beyond pain or agony. It just was far more than hurt. It was simply indescribably horrific. It hurt more than any pain that I had ever felt before or that I could imagine. It hurt so bad. It hurt really bad.

"This is all your fault! You shouldn't be crying like a wimp! Your mother was nothing but a traitor and a whore and now she is dead and in hell like she deserves to be so deal with it!" My father yelled right into my ear before slamming one final time right into the wall before dropping me onto the ground and storming out of the door.

Grey surrounded me and quickly darkened to a gentle, painless, and merciful black. I awoke from having passed out still on the floor. My body was sore from the beating I received, but through some shear will and determination, I shakingly and weakly sat up. Even though I was in a galaxy worth of pain and suffering, I felt some sort of wild euphoric joy at the success of sitting up. I could sit up still. I could move still and somehow I found that extremely unbelievable and miraculous. The success made me happier even in this time of so much pain.

I waited for a long while more letting the pain simmer down, before I decided to try to take my success to the next level. I gathered all the strength I could, and slowly and excruciatingly raised my body upward. My arms shook relentlessly and a harsh wave of pain hit me causing me to fall, but I did not want to give up. So, I tried once again even harder only to fail during another wave of suffering. I still didn't want to give up, so I tried a third time and actually managed to somehow raise my entire body up so I was standing on my two feet. I felt wonderful despite the horrific feeling that ran through the nerves of my body. I might even have smiled if I hadn't suddenly remembered how all of this had happened. I remembered how all the pain and grief happened.

My eyes began to sting a little and I realized that I was crying again. I was crying. I tried to wipe away the tears only to have my face soaked by them again once more. I couldn't stop it. I tried to hold back, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop, so I stopped trying and just allowed myself to fully feel all the overwhelming emotions that pressed down on me like a heavy weight. I let them guide my next steps, which were slow, shaky, and painful, into my father's room where there was mourning ink. I went straight to get some not really caring about the fact that it was my father's property. I didn't care. The respect I had for my father had been almost completely crushed.

I let myself mourn for my mother more properly knowing that my father was wrong. She was no traitor. She was the tragic heroine that dared to stand up and do the right thing for somebody else. She didn't deserve hell but the most beautiful Vorta. She deserved the respect of a true, brave, and noble warrior. So, I mourned her the best I could by marking my face with the black ink and thought thoroughly of her during each and every mark. As I marked my skin, I felt just a little bit of the pain ebb away along with it. I took my time with all the marks sitting there for hours letting all the emotional pain fully diminish to a more tolerable level. Eventually, I finished my long and careful task, but I didn't even bother to put the ink back how I found it. I know longer cared anymore. My father didn't deserve an obedient or considerate son.

I walked out of the room and my father burst through the door abruptly. He stared at me with an appalled look and I felt like a rodent being held down by a large bird of prey. My body froze up in my fear. I could not move. I could not move. I could not move. He came at me fast and hard easily knocking me like a rag doll to the ground. He took out a bottle of something he had been carrying around in his uniform and poured it all over my face. My eyes burned and my skin stung so much that I wondered if it were some sort of acid. My vision quickly blurred as he ruthlessly scrubbed the marks off of my skin. I squirmed and cried out tasting just a little bit of the bitter flavor of whatever it was feeling my mouth burn like a volcano.

After a while, I could no longer see a thing, but I felt the blows as they poured down on me like a rain. I screamed out, and he hit me harder and harder and harder. I heard a sickening snapping sound of what I assumed was my arm being broken, but I was in so much agony that I couldn't exactly pinpoint where the pain was coming from. My father didn't stop even as I began to beg and he ruthlessly kicked me again and again and again to a point I thought it would never stop. He kicked me and kicked me and continually kicked me. My ribs snapped easily under his blows sending a sudden wave of pain through me that hurt in a way that hadn't ever before.

"You pathetic, useless, brat!" He yelled as he continued his assault. It seemed he would never stop as he sent me into a hopeless spiral of intense and unending pain that made me wish for nothing more than death. Eventually, I coughed out blood all over the floor and he finally ceased. I heard him walk off and wondered briefly why I couldn't just die as I choked out more blood onto the floor. My vision began to slowly return to me only to fade away just as quickly to the gentle darkness and passed out once again on the hard, cold, tiled floor.

**Author's Note: Horrifying enough? Leave a review. Tell me if I successfully freaked you out or made you feel sorry for Malon or made you want to kill Kolskiar or whatever you're thinking… I like reviews and they motivate me to write more.**


	3. The Scars of the Blade

**Author's Note: Just when you thought a single person couldn't be more bad or a situation worse... This chapter happens. Warning: The ending has highly explicit content that I recommend the weak at heart skipping. It includes suggestions of rape and incest. I don't own Star Trek. Please don't sue me. Enjoy the fanfiction!**

The aftermath of my father's beatings were always the hardest. Those times were always worse than the actual beatings themselves. I had to fend for myself because he didn't really care at all about me. I had to feed myself which was actually a difficult task as there was rarely food within the house. So, I would have to find some way to get into the town on my own with my injuries which was sometimes impossible. Only when the pain was manageable and I could move, did I go into the city. To pay for the food people gave to me, I would often offer up my father possessions as I had nothing else to give and his property meant less than crap to me.

Strangely, however, rarely anybody would take anything from me. Some people would even offer to take me into their homes. I found it really strange until I realized that they thought I was a homeless servant boy that had been beaten by my master. They thought I was a slave so I used this perception to my advantage. I began creating good lies to tell people to answer for my bruises, my broken bones, why I would cry so much, or why I was alone.

I often would tell them that my name was Malon which literally translated to "a bad person." The reason I chose that name was partially because I began to believe that I was a bad person and that I deserved my father's daily punishments. I believed that I was a bad son because that's all he ever told me everyday. Everyday, he would criticize me, claim everything was my fault, and made me believe that I was worthless and expendable. All the while, he did not care. He never showed any signs of remorse. Where had that man who would have defended me with his life go? Where did his love go? What did I do to make it go away?

What he told me during my punishments also made me believe that everything I did was wrong. I believed that the reason I would be hit or beaten was because I didn't scrub the floor till it was blind white, I didn't call my father sir when I addressed him, I didn't stand straight enough, I cried, I was afraid, and I didn't follow his orders quick enough. So, I thought I deserved the name Malon which is why I renamed myself that for the strangers.

I would also tell the strangers that I served in a big house where a cruel merciless master who I didn't know the name of beat me for incompetence, and that the master wouldn't feed me which actually wasn't too far from the actual truth. I told the people that were really sympathetic and questioning that my mother was a reman. The lie about my mother always worked the best to get people to stop asking questions out of consideration. This was probably because most everyone all thought they were superior to the remans who they used as slaves and thought of as nothing more than trash. Of course, saying that lie would sometimes produce an undesirable result as some people would lose too much sympathy and wouldn't feed me at any price and even threaten to notify the Tal Shiar if I didn't go back to do my duties.

I quickly got better at my lies as I told them more and more often. It got to a point I even made a few people think differently about their distaste in remans. So much so that people treated me kindly even though they thought I was at least half reman.

Eventually, word of the servant boy named Malon spread throughout the city making my hard agonizing life a whole lot easier. Anybody who saw me would help me by feeding me, mending my broken bones, or even comforting me with the soft soothing words that I missed from my mother so much. It would always make me feel worse and I would often cry so hard and so much, but people were so nice and so patient that they would often go great lengths to make my drowning grief easier. Soon, with so many strangers looking out for my well being, I stopped feeling so alone. I felt better that people were so dedicated to helping me.

One day, my father came in looking furious and he walked straight to me in a few short strides.

"What did you tell them?!" He demanded angrily grabbing my shirt and pulling me close so I wouldn't flee.

"I- I don't k- k- know what you're t- talking about, s- sir." I told him honestly and fearfully.

"Really... Malon?" He asked putting a lot of extra empathis on my fake name.

Oh the Elements, he knew. He knew. He knew and it made him angry. He was going to hurt me again. I shook in fear and looked at him using all the power I had in me not to cry and I waited to be hit hard with his fists. Yet, his fist did not come down on me and the dark twisted look on his face grew worse than it ever had before. His eyes that looked like blackholes scared me more than everything else and I was just so scared, paralyzed, fearful, and helpless again.

"Dammit you pathetic fucking brat! You useless little bastard! Answer me!" He ordered shaking me hard only making me more frozen and speechless than ever before. He let go of me and just stared at me with that look slowly pulling out a medium sized blade tipped with something black that looked like... acid. I stared at the blade with wide eyes and tried to run from him. He quickly grabbed me and pulled me closer harshly. I struggled against him, but he held me like an unbreakable vice.

"I'm going to fucking kill you so slowly and painfully you little bastard." He said angrily into my ear before cutting slightly into my skin with the blade.

Absolute panic took over and I tried so hard to escape the burning of the acid, but my struggling was useless. My panic increased as I saw and felt the blood run down my skin. I shook slightly and cried out and felt a warm feeling in my pants and smelled the stronger scent as it traveled through the room. I cried hard as I realized what had occurred and my father looked down on me with absolute disgust.

"You stupid little baby! You just had to fucking piss youself and ruin a perfectly good pair of pants!" He yelled at me before sheathing his blade covered with my blood and carrying me with his rough cruel hands to the bathroom.

He ripped off my clothes in fury and shoved me hard into the shower. He turned the water on all the way hot and after a while I screamed feeling as if I was being consumed in fire. He scrubbed my body hard with soap pressing down the hardest on my new wounds causing the pain to sting and more blood to seep out. Everything turned grayish and I felt myself drifting towards unconsciousness, but he quickly pulled me hard out of the shower startling me back into full awareness. He turned the water off and forcibly dried my wet body pressing like a heavy weight against my exposed skin with the towel.

**(Explicit Content Ahead. Read at your own risk.)**

He then stared at my naked body like a hungry animal and took off his own pants. I stared at his exposed area in absolute shock and tried to move away from him. I tried to get away, but there was no escape. There was no escape. He touched me. He touched me in a place he should never have touched me, but not with just his hand. He did more and it was horrible. It felt like an endless nightmare filled with absolute disgust, revulsion, and endless squirming. But he held me tightly and would not let go. Then, when he was finally finished playing at me with his mouth. He raised himself up again smiled at me mockingly. I just wanted to disappear and make it all end like that, but he would not let me go. The unspeakable horror would not end. It wouldn't end and I was trapped beneath his will.

"I want you to do to me what I did to you." My father said with a hint of pleasure in his voice that sent a strong wave of emotion shooting up my spine.

Not only was it wrong and disgusting and revolting and sickening and downright nasty, but it was also something I did not want to do. I didn't want to do it. However, the way he was staring at me with that look. I knew I probably didn't have much of a choice. Still, I figured I had to try at any cost to avoid or escape it.

"No- no, father," I told him with all the bravery I could muster.

"No? No?! You do it or you get more punishment. Take your pick." He told me cruelly.

I- I was so terrified of punishment from pain. I didn't want more pain. I didn't want any more suffering. I didn't want more agony. So I complied with his orders. I listened to him. I did it. I committed incest. I pulled away from him so fast in absolute horror and disgust, but he was satisfied and smiled widely at me with approval. I felt sick. I was absolutely and incredibly sick. As soon as he left, I lifted up the toilet seat and vomited repeatedly. Over and over again I emptied out my stomach until there was nothing left but pure acid. The- well- that's not important. I forced it all out of my system just as quickly as I took it in.

**(Explicit Content over)**

"That was disgusting. You are dirty." I heard a mysterious voice say.

"Who's there?!" I demanded.

"I am." The voice mocked.

"Who are you?" I asked desperately looking around and seeing nothing. "I am you." The voice replied.

"We are you." The voice repeated again along with many others. "You're going to hell for what you did. Hell, hell, hell."

"No... Elements forgive me for being dirty." I begged to the sky. I covered my ears as the voices got louder and louder and tried to shut out their mocking of my incestuous crimes, but they were right. I did it. It was all my fault and I was going to hell.

**Author's Note: Can it get worse? Maybe... Will it? Well if I told you that it'd spoil the story. Just wait till the chapter and do review it gives my writing more purpose. **


	4. Judas

**Author's Note: This chapter was hard to put together, but here it is! Romulans don't belong to me. Star Trek doesn't either.**

The voices still ran in my head when my father stomped angrily back to where I was.

"What the hell did you do?!" My father asked angrily.

Confused I asked, "W-What do- do you mean s-sir?"

"You took some of my stuff! You little ungrateful brat! You're a bad child! And you deserve what you get!" He yelled.

"I- I'm s- sorry, father. P- please don't hurt me."

"I won't. Not this time."

For a split second, my heart filled with , when I more closely observed the malevolent look on his face, I knew he was planning something. I hoped perhaps that maybe I was wrong and he finally would forgive me. I hoped he would forgive me for being bad.

"But," He began causing my small hopes to instantly plummet, "let's see how you feel when I take your stuff, hmm?"

He begins taking all the food I had gathered and put it all in waste bins that he took out of the house. All the food I had was just trashed. All that time I spent gathering what I could earn begging was wasted. I felt really torn apart by his act, but made no move to stop him. I was too afraid to try and stop whatever he was doing.

He didn't take long with the task and returned and picked me up by the shirt. My heart to thudded a million miles per hour in absolute fear, but he merely carried me to my room and dropped me. I was relieved not to be receiving punishment even if I deserved it. I was relieved to see him go back toward to door.

Yet, my small joy was broken when he slammed the door hard and locked it and I suddenly realized what he was doing. I was absolutely horrified when it hit me. I quickly begun to panick. I panicked. He was going to starve me to death. I was going to starve in here without any food. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't. I had to escape my room.

I tried at the door slamming my body full force into it, but I was too weak to break it open. I was too weak. I tried and tried again slamming my body against the door to escape from the window less room, but I couldn't. I couldn't. I was trapped and there was no food in the house. I realized with horror that I would slowly and painfully die. I was going to die and there was nothing that can be done to stop it. The worst part about it was that my father was right. I did deserve it. I deserved it and I was going to hell. And I deserved it.

"It's all your fault," The Voices told me.

"I know," I replied.

They were right too. I was a disgusting, vile, bad child and it was all my fault. It was all my fault. I deserved this for the thing I had agreed to do to my father. I was responsible for an incestuous act which was one of the most unforgivable sins and for it I deserved hell. It was my fault because I committed the action and I deserved what I was getting.

After a few days, I began to discover that hunger was a terrible feeling. It felt like something was eating at my insides slowly and constantly. The agony of it became increasingly unbearable as it would get more and more noticeable with each passing day. Moving became harder as my muscles would comply less and less and tire more easily. Nights became longer as sleeping became impossible. Things would tend to spin sometimes as I looked around. Worse yet, it became a chore to focus on anything other than the pain in my stomach.

My father had came into the room sometimes, while I was far too weak to run or even struggle. While I was so helpless, weak, and pathetic, he would injure me with the blade. How deep the marks were would always depend on how bad or weak I had been and most times I was always too bad and too weak. He told me so. The voices told me so. I told myself so. I was the reason for the punishments nothing else. I was a vile and ungrateful child and nothing more. If I ever thought the punishments were something other than my fault, the voices in my head would reassure me by telling me it was my fault. All the time they told me I was to blame, I was a bad boy, I was going to hell and I began to believe them. The Elements wouldn't want an incestuous brat whose constant whining was a nuisance to the father. Of course, I was going to hell. I was going to hell and I had no chance at redemption.

One day, my father had company over. As far as I could figure out, it was two important senators and some important young male who was becoming something of a war hero. I mostly listened to the conversations because there was barely enough visibility outside of the room to spy.

"Nine, come here!" My father snapped rudely.

I wondered immediately who in the worlds Nine was. He wasn't the proclaimed war hero as my father wouldn't dare disrespect a college. It wasn't one of the senators as my father wouldn't dream of displeasing them. So who was Nine? I wanted to know.

"Nine, take my useless brat out of the house. I don't want the sneaky basted eavesdropping on our business!" My father ordered sharply.

My curiosity over Nine was quickly fulfilled when a reman male unlocked the door to my room. He looked at me with horror. I automatically feared he was disgusted or abhorrent of my weak pathetic body. Yet, the sad look that came over his face suggested otherwise. Why was he sad? Did I disappoint him somehow? I tried to figure it out as he stood there staring for a moment longer than necessary. Finally, a look of slight anger came over his face and I knew I was right. I did disappoint him.

He approached me slowly and carefully before gently picking me up in his arms which was odd. Why was he so careful with me? I deserved pain. Why didn't he give me pain? I deserved pain. Yet, he seemed almost like he didn't want to crush me and for a second I remembered my mother treating the captain like he was an incredibly old doll. I remembered her smile, beauty, kindness, and grace and realized I would never have any of those things again. She was gone and I deserved it. I deserved it because I was bad. Good things shouldn't come to bad people. I never deserved her love.

Tears began to fall down my face quickly and I wasn't quite sure of it was the sudden drowning grief of knowing my mother was gone or if it was the pathetic action of feeling sorry for myself. I didn't have a right to feel self pity. I was a worthless selfish bastard. I was a bad child. I was a sinner. I was a stupid ungrateful brat. I was a hated piece of shit. I lost my right to self pity as soon as I was born. I was a nothing and am a nothing and will always be a nothing. A nothing should have nothing.

The reman, however, didn't seem to be aware of that as he attempted to comfort me gently. I tried to squirm away from him so I wouldn't receive something I never earned. He only began to look sad and held me tighter. He hid my face so my father wouldn't see my shameful deed of crying before he began walking out of the house. The last thing I heard before we reached the door was,

"Forgive me, Tomalak, but I don't want the damn Deflector brat listening in to important business."

"Apology accepted. I am glad you were considerate enough to rid us of the pathetic vermin boy." Tomalak replied.

My father and the senators laughed hysterically and I couldn't see but I'm sure Tomalak had a smug smile on his face. The reman waited patiently and expectedly for something and I realized quickly it was additional orders.

Nine was a slave! My father had a slave. Nine was my father's slave. I instantly was mortified beyond belief. I felt incredibly bad for Nine if that was even his real name and not just the number. It was probably just the number to keep the reman as distant and inferior as possible.

My father looked irritated by Nine waiting to leave, "Dammit, just go! Take the child wherever! I really don't give a fuck about what happens to the little shit! Just bring me back whatever is left of him when you're done!"

"Yes, sir." Nine replied with a hint of something that sounded like displeasure and anger in his voice. My father ignored the slightly sharp words and just turned back to his conversation.

Nine bowed low to my father's back probably allowing hatred to show on his face causing my heart to jump in fear. I wished desperately for Nine to stop. Thankfully, my wish was granted and the reman left out of the door to the house. I was immediately relieved thinking everything was going to be fine until Nine slammed the door slightly behind himself. He quickened his pace as soon as he left the house and took me far into an unfamiliar valley. Near the valley was a small poorly built house that he quickly took me inside.

He immediately offered me some sort of food. I wanted to refuse because I my father didn't want me to have food, but I was so unbearably hungry that I was unable to consider him. I snatched the piece of what looked like stale bread and ate it as fast as I could as if it would disappear. The single small piece of stale hard bread was the best thing I had ever tasted in my life. Normally, I would have disliked the taste of anything stale but it was almost as if it had been my favorite food in the universe. My mouth watered and my stomach immediately protested for more. Nine was quick to bring out more food and I ate at it madly forgetting everything else including my own manners.

Yet, the mad urge for more food kept me eating whatever was given to me no matter what it was. I ate and ate and ate whatever Nine would bring to me for what seemed like decades before I finally actually felt relief. There was also an odd undiscribeable feeling in my stomach that nearly caused me to vomit what I just took in. The reman just looked concerned and picked me up.

"It's okay, little one. You'll be alright." Nine sad sadly.

I could only nod, "Th- thank you, sir. For- for the food."

The reman looked surprised and I assumed it was probably because he had never been thanked, at least, by my kind.

"Do you have a name kid?" Nine asked.

"I c- call myself, M- Malon." I answered. "Malon," he repeated nodding.

"Sir, is- is your n- name really N- Nine?"

"No, it's Judas."

"Judas."

"Yes, that's right. Do you feel okay? I could take you to a doctor."

"No- no sir. I- I mean no- no d- doctor p- please. "

"Okay, okay. I won't take you then. I promise."

"Th- thank you, s- sir. "

"Malon listen. Know whatever your father does to you is not right. You don't deserve it. And most of all it's definitely not your fault whatever he did to you, forced you to do, or scared you into doing." "No- no you're wrong. It's my fault. I'm disgusting and dirty."

"No, I know that's not true. I know you were scared and really didn't have much of a choice. I know."

"How?"

"Because... because..." Judas stammered looking distressed. I realized almost immediately what he was trying to say. Judas had been through some of the same things I had been. He had been hurt by my father. I imagined my father beating poor Judas and re-imagined how the blows felt on my own skin. I felt terrible because of it, but I also felt- less isolated. It was strange and wierd, but I was glad someone else knew what it was like. I didn't have to be alone and that gave me a little bit of joy.

Judas and I stared at one another for a long moment, neither of us really knowing what to say. We were stuck staring at one another for several long minutes before an abrupt sound interrupted the awkward silence.

I was terrified, when I saw my father burst through the door looking pissed off. He shoved past Judas in a rage and knocked me hard on the face sending me to instant darkness. When I opened my eyes, both my father and Judas were gone. I jumped up and looked around almost desperately and felt a terrible dark deep terror at the sight of blood. It was a horrible sight that sent chills up my spine and threw my stomach into a loop.

However, my concern also kicked in and I studied the trail of blood more closely. My heart skipped a beat when I realized it wasn't romulan blood like mine or my father's. It was reman. I rushed out of the house and ran as fast as I could following the trail for as far as it went. However, the trail ended in the middle of the valley and never started up again. My heart dropped down into my stomach. Judas was gone. Judas was probably dead. He was mostly likely dead or suffering. I failed to save him. I failed to save mother. I wailed at the sky in emotional pain. Then, I roared at the failure in myself.

Then, Judas's words replayed into my mind. It wasn't right what my father did to me. My father was wrong. The voices were wrong. It wasn't my fault at all nor did I deserve any of it. I didn't deserve to lose mother, or be beaten, or be starved, or to lose Judas. Pain gripped me hard and I realized for the first time in a long while as I realized that my father was at fault. I rediscovered that I hated him so much for what he did to me, to mother, and to Judas. I hated him. I despised him. I abhorred him.

I was angry at him and angry that the Elements would let this happen. I roared at the sky and I thought that maybe there were no such thing as the Elements. If there was such ting, how could they let a evil monster get away with so much? Why would they be so cruel? No, there was no Elements. There was no hope. My father was too strong for me and too loved to ever get arrested. There was nothing I could do. There was no way to stop his insidious crimes. There was no hope against my father. He won.

**Author's Note: This chapter was all over the place so a** **lot of editing had to happen before it got here. Do review and tell me if it was worth it.**


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